Too Far to be Saved
by Spirit0
Summary: AU When magic is on the brink of extinction, shocking things occur on Gaea. Now, the fate of two worlds depends upon one girl with a harsh past and a softhearted king. Can fate be altered, or will the sacrafice be made? VxH


**AN: Aloha! Yeah, um, please refrain from killing me. (Pretty please?) As some (literally like two, maybe) of you may know, this is a re-write of one of my earlier stories (actually . . . it's a more evolved form of my very first fic idea). Out of all the crazy things I've ever come up with, I always loved this idea the most (followed closely by Last Stop) . . . I just could never portray it how I really wanted. But like they say, try and try again (this is my fourth time trying -sobs-). So I'll try again. Hopefully it'll work out this time.**

**Too Far To Be Saved**

_Your fate is decided . . ._

Chapter One: And So _It_ Begins

Where were they going? It was impossible to know. The curtains were drawn as the carriage moved along the bumpy trail. But, even with the darkest curtains, a tiny sliver of sunlight managed to trickle through. The sun. It'd been so long since she'd last seen the sun. So long ago that she couldn't even remember.

A soft chuckle came from beside her. "It won't be long now."

oOo

How he loved the sun; the way it burned so brightly, never faltering, filling everyone with happiness and energy. But then, he couldn't really choose the sun over the rain, for there was something magical about the rain as well. It gave life to the world. The sun and rain were vital. He smiled. When he thought about it, perhaps he held a special place for the sun after all; it was easier to run away when it was sunny.

"Lord Van!" a far-off voice called. The raven-haired youth-in-hiding sighed. He just couldn't get away. Why couldn't they leave him alone for one day? One day, that was all he asked. He sat up, his auburn eyes scouting the field in front of him. Though it was still some distance away, he could see her furry orange outline racing towards him. Running away seemed like a good option. But he knew he couldn't . . . his sense of duty overrode thoughts of personal pleasure.

How Van Slanzar de Fanel hated being king.

"_Lord Van!_" the little cat girl cried as she pounced on him, practically knocking him back to the ground. Van sighed as Merle nuzzled against his chest. How could he resist his cute little adopted sister? What, with that pink head of hair, adorable blue eyes, and soft fur you could just pet all day, who _would_ dare to resist? (Besides, if he _did _resist, his eyes would be scratched out.)

"What is it this time, Merle?" Van asked, annoyed. "And stop rubbing against my shirt . . . you'll get your fur all over it."

For a moment, their eyes met, and reluctantly Merle pulled away. Just as annoyed, she replied, "Don't act like you don't have a million of those raggedy red shirts stuffed in your closet."

"But I love this particular red shirt the most," Van half-joked, attempting to laugh. But Merle was not amused as she stared at the sixteen year old king.

Van's smile faded. "So I suppose you didn't come find me to talk about my lack of style?"

"No, that's not why I came to talk to you," Merle said sadly. "Though I half-wish it was. You are needed back at the palace. It's urgent."

"It's _always_ urgent," Van seethed. "What is it this time?"

"There are some strange unexpected guests . . ."

oOo

It was obvious that he was pulling most of the weight. The people of the rural country of Fanelia stared as he trudged by. Such cruelty hadn't been seen in many years. Who would do such a thing? It was so horrible that parents scrambled to cover their children's eyes.

He ignored their staring, although it was awkward. He hadn't been around _normal_ people since he was cub. But it was also embarrassing, too. For such a big wolf-man like him to be chained by the arms and legs, forced to drag some carriage along behind him. If only these people knew . . . knew of the terror lurking behind those curtains.

"Ruhm?" a small voice asked beside him. If the wolf-man felt bad for himself, he felt even worse for the young children. They, too, were chained, forced to drag along, with everyone watching them. The one who'd spoken was Raidon, a boy of only seven, with striking orange hair, oddly contrasted with pale gray eyes.

"What is it?" Ruhm asked gruffly. He knew what the kid was going to say. Raidon had been saying the same thing periodically now.

"Why don't you let us help you pull?" Raidon asked.

"Because you would be hurt," Ruhm replied simply. The guards on either side were watching them warily.

"But I can pull, too!" Raidon cried in a hushed whisper.

"But can _they?"_ Ruhm asked, pointing to the other two children. One was a very small girl of six years, the other was a tall, skinny boy of nine. The girl, Aiko, stumbled along, while Ikki, the boy who was new to the life as a slave, had his tongue hanging out like a dog, gasping for breath. Both would collapse if they had to do anything but walk. "Just let me do it, Raidon."

One of the guards whipped him across the shoulder, causing some civilians to gasp and murmur. "Be quiet, you good for nothin' animal!"

oOo

"Do you know where we are going?" he asked as his sick and twisted black eyes stared at her gleefully. The chains binding her hands clanked lightly as she shrank back a bit. How she hated this man! Although he was still young, a little over thirty, his hair was already graying. His left eye twitched, his skin was wrinkly, and he always watched her, touched her. He was obsessed with her and she could do nothing to fight back.

"No," she said tersely. "Should I care?"

He chuckled. "Yes, you should care . . . You should care very much." His left eye twitched sporadically. "Everything will be set in motion today."

She stared at him, trying desperately hard not to show the shock she felt.

His rugged hand stroked her long, chestnut brown hair. She shuddered. "You know . . . we could avoid all this if you'd just give it to me. I know you have it."

"Never," she hissed.

oOo

"Slaves?" Van asked, the word tumbling from his mouth as if he'd just swallowed a clump of dirt. No country he knew of still enslaved people. In face, none had for a very long time. The very idea appalled him. Yet there were four, forced to parade around the main streets of his own country!

"Yes, Lord Van," an old adviser nodded gravely. They were standing in the overly-decorated council room, which was just another thing on Van's hate list. "They are pulling a carriage of some sort, flanked by four guards. Their leader is inside the carriage. A messenger says he would like to speak with you."

Van frowned. He would never get over that this ruler had slaves. "To speak with me? What about? They cannot barge in here while breaking common law and expect to have an audience with me. How did they even get in the city?"

The adviser became fidgety, glancing over at the window, which had a perfect view of the city. "I do not know how they came to be here, Lord Van, but . . . I believe you should speak with them. They say they come from a land we don't even know of . . ."

"Nonsense!" the young king exclaimed, outraged by what he took as mockery. But it was far from nonsense or mockery.

"Lord Van!" the adviser cried. There was something in the old mans eyes that made Van freeze. He seemed scared, terrified even. Of what? These stupid slave herders? He tried to regain his composure. "Please . . . it is wrong of you to turn down a meeting with a ruler we know nothing of just because you disagree with his morals." Van scowled before turning away disgustedly.

"I will meet them at the front gates. They shall not enter the palace grounds," he said, slamming the door behind him.

The old man relaxed as he felt the pressure leave his back.

oOo

Ruhm couldn't stop glancing down at them. They looked so tired and hungry. He was afraid the children would collapse before they got there; wherever _there_ was. This city didn't seem to have anything important; it was enclosed on three sides by cliffs, which he'd heard from the guards was where many dragons prowled. The only way to get into this country was from the front, which was guarded and barred by a huge gate. But of course, mortal men and gates weren't enough to stop--

He winced in pain as a guard lashed on the back. "You mangy animal, stop daydreamin'. We're practically there."

Ahead of him lay a building, bigger than all the rest. It was separated slightly from the main city, and was surrounded by gardens and trees. It appeared to be . . .

"The palace . . . So that's it, huh?"

oOo

Van paced impatiently at the gates. What was he supposed to say? _Hello, I'm Van Fanel, king of Fanelia, and I just hope you know how despicable you are!_ Somehow, he knew that wouldn't float well with his advisers. Especially the one he'd spoken with earlier . . . What was with that old guy? And how _did_ these enslavers get past the front gates?

"They're here," Merle whispered, her ears pressed flat. "Lord Van, there's something strange about them . . ."

"I know," Van whispered quietly. "That's why I want you to go back to the palace."

"But, Lord Va--"

"Just do it, Merle," Van whispered fiercely. "Please?"

She was about to complain, but just nodded sadly instead, "As you wish, Lord Van," and scampered away.

The human-drawn carriage was almost upon him. Van could clearly see the guards and the slaves. The guards walked rhythmically together, and all four carried not just a sword, but a whip as well. _To whip the slaves . . ._ Van clenched his fists, turning his attention to the slaves themselves. One was huge, and wasn't even human-- he was a wolf-man. But the other three were rather small, only children. Two were male-- one with odd orange hair and a defiant look, while the other looked just about useless. The remaining slave was a young girl. They were making a little girl pull some stupid lord around. How repulsive could one get?

"Halt!" cried one of the guards, a little ways off from Van. The procession stopped immediately, and the first two guards bowed, while the other two went to help their ruler out of the carriage. The four that were chained just sat there quietly.

"Ah, Lord Van Fanel, it's so nice to finally meet you," Van stared dully at the man who'd spoken, obviously the leader. The man looked like a crazy person if Van had ever seen one, and he had the perfect voice for it too. His hair was a dark gray color, and his left eye twitched like a rabid dog, enhancing the creases on his ugly face. A true monster.

Yet, next to the vile creature stood a girl that Van was instantly compelled to. She, too, was a slave, for although she had come from the carriage, her hands and feet were shackled. She was around Van's age, with soft, long brown hair and hardened emerald green eyes. Her clothes were more well kept than those of the others, and her face screamed of defiance. The leaders pet.

"Your name?" Van asked curtly, his eyes straying on the girl.

"Ah, yes, how rude of me," creation-gone-wrong stated. "I am Lord Adalrik."

"Last name?"

"I don't have one. Isn't that nice? Less for you to remember," Adalrik smiled crookedly.

"And you are from . . ?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you. But you will find out . . . sooner or later. Most likely sooner than later." Another crooked smile, this time accompanied by a glance at his slaves.

"How did you get in this city?" Van asked, more out of curiosity than anything.

"I came through the gates. What other way is there? You're _guards_ are very nice."

Van stood in silence for a moment, going over how phony all of this sounded. Would his watchmen really let this . . . _thing_ . . . in? "What did you come here for?" he asked quietly, deciding he would ask his men later.

"To make a treaty with you," Adalrik said calmly. "I want--"

"I will make no treaty with you," Van stated calmly. Sharp maroon eyes held the gaze of hazy black ones. Adalrik's smile slowly faded as his overflowing energy was drained.

"You haven't even heard my terms . . ."

"I haven't heard a lot of things about you, now have I?" Van went on, cutting this obvious fake off. "But I see you own slaves," his eyes glanced at each one, lingering last on the girl. "I do not support this . . . _practice_."

That disgusting smile returned. "Is that it? What if I give you these five slaves right here?" The four guards that were standing perfectly still suddenly moved and unchained the four slaves from the carriage. But their hands and feet were still bound. All of them seemed bewildered by this action, except the girl, who kept a straight face.

Silence ensued as Van was put on the spot. He wanted to free these people, but he couldn't put his own country in danger for only five. From behind Adalrik, the girl shook her head. Was she telling him it was a trap? That she didn't want to be freed?

"No, I still will not make a treaty," Van said slowly. Surprisingly, Adalrik did not seem thrown off by this. Rather, he seemed . . . to want it?

"Very well, then," he stated calmly, walking up to Van. Van was slightly taller than Adalrik, and although Adalrik looked weak and carried no obvious weapon, the young kings hand hovered over his sword. A strange aura lurked about him. But the ruler-of-nowhere took that hovering hand and pressed something hard into it, then walked away. Van stared at his hand. There was a small metal key.

"I'll give them to you anyway," Adalrik stated with a wave of the hand. "Maybe you'll change your mind later." He started to ascend the steps into the carriage.

"Who will pull your precious carriage now?" Van couldn't restrain from asking. This guy was twisted . . .

The four guards took the places of the four slaves, pushing them roughly out of the way. Adalrik once again had a sinister smile plastered on his face. "Why, my loyal subjects, of course. Now, take care, Lord Van, until we meet again. And we _will_ meet again . . ."

_To Be Continued . . ._

**AN: This story seems really weird now, right? Please don't get discouraged! I swear, it gets interesting after this. It just has to start out this way. I really hope you don't think it's _that_ weird . . . Considering I haven't even explained anything yet.**

**Vi3tbabii (my beta reader and best friend) is funny! Here's part of our AIM conversation . . . (of course I'm blocking out her screen name!)**

**Beta: what's the girl pulling ? a ruler?**

**EscaflowneFreak0: ... what?**

**Beta: in the story**

**Beta: the slave girl**

**EscaflowneFreak0: uh huh...**

**EscaflowneFreak0: the little one?**

**Beta: They were making a little girl pull some stupid ruler around (note: this was the original sentence)**

**EscaflowneFreak0: how do you not get it in context?**

**Beta: uhmm...**

**Beta: **

**EscaflowneFreak0: like... they're all... pulling the carriage... which has Adalrik inside...**

**EscaflowneFreak0: get it?**

**Beta: ahh**

**Beta: ruler.. i'm gonna have to change that word**

**Beta: i thought it was the stick XD**

**EscaflowneFreak0: ...**

**EscaflowneFreak0: you're horrible...**

**Beta: XD**

**Beta: i bet i won't be the only one!**

**EscaflowneFreak0: ... I think you will XD**

**Beta: XDXDXD**

**EscaflowneFreak0: but you can change it**

**Truthfully, I don't expect many people to read or review this. But I love it anyway!**

**-Spirit0**


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